The Treasure of Hogwarts
by Magic Shadow Dragon
Summary: Takes place in 5th Year. Usual changes in school life. New Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but something is unique about this one. There are whispers of evil in the Forbidden Forest. Something, or someone is coming for the Treasure of Hogwarts, and
1. No More

Hi all, just a warning, this is my first HP fic. I hope you don't find it too horrible.  
  
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Harry Potter, famous as the Boy-who-lived in the wizarding world, was wishing he were the boy that had saved. He was in his room, as he had been for the portion of the summer when he wasn't subjected to chores by his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. They had been particularly nasty to him this summer, owing to the incident with the "Ton-tongue Toffee" that Fred and George Weasely, two of Harry's wizard friends, had fed Harry's cousin Dudley. Dudley extracted his "revenge" against Harry whenever he was given an opportunity. The pompous boy was constantly interfering with Harry's chores, and Harry's Aunt and Uncle never seemed to notice whatever it was Dudley had done.  
  
Though Harry's aunt and uncle were Muggles, they weren't as blind as they pretended to be.. They saw how subdued he was when he had arrived home for the summer break. Something was eating at his soul, decaying him from the inside out. And they took great pleasure in making life all the more miserable for him.  
  
It was 8 in the morning. Harry had not slept well, his dreams plagued with nightmares of Cedric Diggory's death. The aftereffects of the forbidden Cruciatus curse following even in his sleep. He had performed tried to perform a Silencing Charm to keep his screams from waking up his Aunt and Uncle, but the unshakable rules of the blasted Ministry of Magic had threatened to expel him.again. So Harry duct taped his mouth closed whenever he slept, just in case. The more prominent and horrifying dream was the scene where Voldemort, perhaps the most powerful evil wizard who had ever lived, performed the Death Curse on Cedric before Harry's eyes played over, and over, and over.  
  
"Harry Potter! Get up this instant! It's 8 o'clock in the morning and our breakfast won't cook itself!" a shrill voice sounded from downstairs.  
  
"Coming Aunt Petunia." Harry called down.  
  
He checked himself in the mirror on an impulse. His skin was pale and tight on his face, due to the lack of good food, or any food for that matter, in his so-called diet. His black hair was, as always, completely unmanageable. His green eyes, which usually seemed to shine with life, were glassy and emotionless. He sighed, **This is as good as it gets.** He thought dejectedly, never knowing that he was quite a handsome young man because of the constant mental strain put on him by his blood-relatives. Having Dudley get compliments constantly did not help his self esteem either.  
  
He opened his door, stumbling slightly on the obviously awkward sized hand- me-downs of Dudley's that he was forced to wear. The pants were too large on his waist, and barely got down to mid-shin. The shirts were baggy and tent-like, giving him all the shape of a potato sack. Though his nutrition and mental health was lacking at best, this summer had been kind on his physique. He had grown another 3 inches, giving him a most-welcome height advantage on his pig of a cousin. Convinced that Cedric's death was due to some physical flaw with himself, Harry had trained during the sleepless nights. He had exercised, lifting his heavy furniture silently in the middle of nights, pushing himself to his physical limits, the blood-red eyes of Voldemort and the screams of his friends in his nightmares the only motivation he needed. He had become leaner, stronger, with muscles that showed even through the baggy clothing. As such, Dudley only attempted any physical conflict when Harry's back was turned.  
  
He came down the stairs quietly, experience teaching him to keep quiet lest the noise rile his uncle's famous temper.  
  
"Hurry up boy! I haven't got all day! Honestly, you've been so lazy this summer, just sitting up in your room. How can they put up with you at that freakshow they call a school?"  
  
Harry was silent, gritting his teeth as he prepared breakfast.  
  
His uncle saw the muscles in his jaw clench fiercely, and took that as his sign that it was working, "What's the matter boy? Cat got your freaky little tongue? You must know some other people besides those people who popped through our fireplace?" he kept his tone light, as if he was actually interested.  
  
Harry wasn't fooled, he wasn't giving his uncle any ammunition.  
  
"Well then, if you don't feel like being civil, then perhaps some you'd rather do some yard work. I want you to pull the weeds, then trim the hedge, mow the lawn, clip the bushes, and water your Aunt's flowers. Then you can start on your work indoors."  
  
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry strained out, desperately fighting the urge to rush up to his room, take his wand, and hex his Uncle into next week. But he needed his uncle in as good a mood as possible when Hermione would come to pick him up for his annual stay at the Burrow, just after his 15th birthday, tomorrow.  
  
Harry went outside, knowing that his uncle made him pull the weeds first instead of just mowing them down and spreading some weed killer just to put Harry through more work. He wouldn't let his Uncle get to him though. He smiled inwardly of seeing Hermione again. She would be full of stories of her various trips over the summer. Harry thought about the way her eyes lit up whenever she talked about some foreign country or another. The way her hair, though bushy and uncontrollable, seemed to suit her rather than take away from her looks as it would on other people.  
  
Harry shook his head, **I just daydreamed about Hermione!** he thought to himself.  
  
He smiled, laughing at himself for such foolish thoughts. She probably spent the summer with Krum, having the time of her life. Harry sighed, wishing that he could have spent the summer with her. But he had focused on another goal, like Cho Chang. The pretty Asian Seeker would probably curse him on sight now.  
  
He sighed, his heart wrenching at the memory of her face when he had asked her to the Yule Ball last year. He cursed himself for being so cowardly. Then a wave of shame hit him. How could he be thinking of dating Cho after he had caused Cedric's death? He lost his thoughts in the work he was doing.  
  
His strong arms and hands got done through the chores relatively easy, surprising even Harry himself. Glad that all the late nights exercising paid off. He went on through the day, trying to get through without incident, **Just one more day**  
  
He went on to wash the outside windows, humming to himself the Gryffindor Quidditch song, trying to keep himself from thinking. A squeal from Dudley inside brought Harry back to reality. **Oh no.** Experience taught him Dudley's shrieks brought Hell in large portions. He heard more yelling from his Uncle, but softer sounds from his aunt subdued it. Harry got REALLY worried when he heard them laughing, and then it got quiet. Harry shrugged and went back to work, glad that he didn't get blamed for whatever it was that had frightened Dudley.  
  
Harry had just finished the cars when a rock hit him in the side of the head, opening up a small cut next to his famous lightning bolt scar. He dropped the rag he was using and took off his glasses, trying to keep the blood from getting in his eye. He already knew the culprit, so he didn't bother looking for who had thrown it.  
  
"Damnit Dudley what in the bloody fuck d'you want now?"  
  
"I'll do whatever I please!" his fat face curled into a sneer, "I was just making sure you was doing your job. You better not slack off. If you don't behave, Daddy won't let you go back to that school of yours. You wouldn't wanna miss out on that whore of yours would you?"  
  
Harry's anger bristled. He reared up to his full height, the blood flowing down the side of his face adding to the affect, "What!?" he shouted.  
  
"I found those freaky pictures in my room. All those pictures of your freaky friends and that stupid bushy-haired slut."  
  
"It's my room! And what did you do to those pictures!" Harry shouted, his voice echoing off the number 6 house's garage door.  
  
"Only because you're freeloading off of Dad!" Dudley said, his voice squeaking a bit as he raised his voice, "If I had my say, you'd be back in your cupboard where you belong! Then I could have my room back."  
  
"What were you doing in my room anyway? Those pictures are personal."  
  
"Well they were cursed anyway. They moved when I looked at them, I don't think Dad was too happy when he found out. She wasn't even good looking, so I did you a favor." Dudley smirked.  
  
Something about that smirk, something that reminded Harry so much of Draco Malfoy that it was scary. Anger burned in Harry's eyes. The fire that had been seen by his teammates before a Quidditch match was now burning holes into Dudley's skull. "What. Did. You. Do!" Harry demanded.  
  
"I burned them of course. Every one. Even those of you in those stupid robes with the broomsticks. Oh, and Mummy also burned the ones of that family too."  
  
Harry seized Dudley up by his shirt collar, strength born of rage and magic lifted Dudley off his feet, "You WHAT!?" Harry roared.  
  
Dudley's face was priceless. He had not seen Harry this angry.ever. He had the same look when Hagrid had given Dudley a tail. Dudley stuttered, before his hefty weight ripped the shirt he was in. His fat frame his the driveway, and Dudley rolled over several times before jumping up and running inside, screeching all the way.  
  
Harry ran indoors, his mind whirling. He rushed inside to see the picture of his parent burning in the fireplace. Their faces filled with horror as it was reduced to smoke and ashes.  
  
Harry's vision blurred as he fell to his knees. His shoulders racked with silent sobs as the only picture of his parents flickered and grew dark. His green eyes sparkled in the firelight, belaying the feelings that broke his already fractured heart. He looked to see his so-called Aunt comforting Dudley, glaring at Harry with undisguised hatred. He seemed to say "Why?"  
  
He felt the impact of his uncle's fist to the back of his head, and he went into a black, dreamless sleep. 


	2. Letters and Anticipation

Thanks to those who reviewed, I've decided to do something more than sleep this weekend. I'll try to get a bit further in the story this chapter, but can anyone tell me how long Hogwarts has been around? I lost the Goblet of Fire book, where the hat sings the song and mentions it, so I'm kinda stuck. Any help would be appreciated. Thanks.  
  
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Harry awoke in a dark, dusty place that seemed oddly familiar. He couldn't see anything, so he groped around in the dark for anything to stand with. His hands hit a board of some kind, so he pulled himself to his feet. Before he was two-thirds of the way up, he cracked his head on the low ceiling. Realization kicked in as the pain faded. He was in his old cupboard, just like Dudley had wanted. He touched what felt like his school trunk, and blindly made for what served as a door. It was locked, surprise surprise. He put his ear to the door and heard voices down the hall. He could not believed how calm and civil they could sound whenever he was not in the room. He didn't know how long he would be in here, so his thoughts wandered.  
  
He saw the pictures burning, the physical evidence of his early years at Hogwarts, that he had people who cared about him. His parents.. His eyes burned as tears filled his eyes. He refused to cry out loud, so he gritted his teeth and changed his sorrow to anger. He didn't care how much bigger his Uncle was, when Harry got out of there, he would make them all pay. He didn't care what the Ministry said, if they so much as mentioned his friends again, he wouldn't hold back anymore. His knuckles cracked as his hands slowly tightened into fists. Trembling with anger, his entire body tensed as he mentally screamed his rage to the world. He held it for several moments, not breathing, only shuddering as every muscle in his body went tight. He released it when he finally needed some air. Gasping, he tried to get some sleep, not wanting to look like he had been waiting to get out if his Uncle should open the door.  
  
``  
  
The door was slammed open and Harry's eyes snapped open, ignoring the pain that the sudden light caused. His vision was out of focus, his glasses probably fell off when his Uncle hit him.  
  
"Get out of there you lazy wretch! It's time for you to make our supper!" His Uncle growled.  
  
Harry said nothing, just getting up and stretching his lithe body. He turned his back on his Uncle and went into the kitchen, daring him to say something. Luckily for Harry, or perhaps luckier for Vernon, his obese Uncle was busy with some sort of business and was in too foul a mood to waste it on Harry. He went back into the living room, grumbling about this and that.  
  
Harry's Aunt was waiting in the kitchen. "I hope your little nap taught you not to overreact."  
  
Harry's fist clenched, the magic that had inflated old ladies and made windows disappear was building. How dare she say that he had overreacted about what Dudley had said! And the pictures!  
  
"After all, Dudley was just throwing a rock at some bird. It's not his fault you got in the way. You went and ruined one of his best shirts. He looked so handsome. You could take some fashion advice from him, if you weren't so weird." His Aunt kept rambling, not noticing the semi-relieved, but still expression on Harry's face.  
  
Harry sighed internally. She was talking about Dudley. Of course, why should she care if she burned the only good memories that Harry had of his parents. The only other one left him screaming when he woke up from the nightmare of his mother's death.  
  
Harry prepared another dinner that he would not be allowed to sit down at. Roast Beef and Augraton potatoes, (A/N: Mmm, my favorite. Some people call them scalloped potatoes. Sp?) He went through the process. Mixing the sauce for the potatoes, still thinking of what had happened earlier. As he wiped his hand to clear some sweat, he saw it came away red. He checked the shiny surface of Aunt Petunia's new pans and saw that the blood from the cut had trickled down his face, and then dried.  
  
The cut wasn't big enough to scar, and it would be gone in a few days. He was thankful for that. So many rumors of what happened to Harry over the summer were already legend at school, most of them right, but that doesn't mean they needed to be proven. He washed the cut, not sure what the effects of the year-old dust in the cupboard would do to an open wound. He finished making dinner and set it on the table. He had cut himself some roast and hidden it in a plastic bag. He threw in some of the potatoes and poured the rest into a large platter to his Aunt and Uncle didn't see that the potatoes hadn't been tampered with.  
  
He went upstairs, when he looked at the clock that was on the staircase. It was almost his birthday. It was just a few more hours until he was 15. Then just another day till Hermione picked him up. He allowed himself a small, tight smile at the thought of leaving these people, if only for a while. He dodged Dudley, who was waddling as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. Dudley tried unsuccessfully to shove Harry, who was hiding the bag of roast and potatoes under his shirt. Harry got into his room and closed the door, glad that he wouldn't be hearing from the Dursleys for a while. He got out his fork and ate hungrily. He had to admit, one good thing about being forced to prepare dinner was that he had turned into a pretty good cook. Harry finished his supper, and flopped down on his bed, looking at the old, broken down cuckoo clock that hung on his wall. The cuckoo never even came out of the clock anymore, but it told time. It had been a joke by Dudley's Aunt, who had said, "Now don't you ever say I never gave you anything."  
  
Harry grimaced as his hand brushed his cut. It had been shallow, but now left nerve ends out in the open. **If Hermione sees this, she'll throw a fit.** he thought, putting the duct tape over his mouth as he laid down.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, waiting for morning when his friends' gifts would arrive. He couldn't wait to hear from them. His breathing slowed, and surprisingly, he had a lovely, dreamless sleep.  
  
``  
  
A figure cloaked in a midnight blue and black cloak was being followed. He heard their footsteps on the cobblestone street.  
  
**Death Eaters** he thought to himself with a smile, **Finally some fun.**  
  
The Death Eaters knew that he had magic. He had probably pissed them off when he had countered their magic when they had tried to obliterate the people in the Muggle bank with an Inflamare Charm. He had gone by just in time, and now he got himself some playtime. He had wiped the Muggles' minds with a Memory charm, so they wouldn't blow the whistle on the wizarding world. He led them into the park, where there were no people around, so he could play. The Death Eaters converged on him as they dropped out of public sight. They probably wanted to take their time, or else they would've just tossed a Death Curse and one on their way.  
  
He stopped in the middle of a clearing, "Good evening," his mellow voice sounded.  
  
"Fool! We'll teach you to meddle in our affairs!" one said, drawing his wand.  
  
The others followed suit, and the stranger's grin was hidden under his hood. His left hand grasped something in his robes, and his right blasted them away without a word. A gale-force wind ripped their goods away, and they were on the ground, anger and shock on their faces.  
  
The first to recover pointed a wand at him and uttered "Stupefy."  
  
The red spell bolt flew at the stranger, who simply waved his hand, reflecting it back at the woman who had cast it.  
  
A sound, like the tone of a wet finger rubbing the rim of a fine wine glass, rang through the clearing. A blade that sparkled in the moonlight flashed, severing 3 wands. The magical energy of the spells they had been casting blasted out, making them drop the wands. The sword's slightly curved blade pointed at the three, and what looked like three Stunning Spells hit them. The other 4 Death Eaters fled, but were felled by Stunning and Disarming spells. The stranger revived the leader, and lowered his own hood. The Death Eater gasped at the pointed ears, and the eyes that were wonderful, yet terrible to look at.  
  
"For my mother, as it always will be." He whispered with an edged that could cut rock.  
  
His sword blazed with the green of the Death Curse, and he whirled his sword in a broad arc. Killing them all except for one. He looked at the last, a young girl about 22.  
  
"Go to the Ministry, tell them to reassign you. Be more careful next time, Auror. Undercover work is dangerous."  
  
The tone ceased as he sheathed his sword and brought up his hood. He went home, or at least what he called home for now. An owl had delivered a letter. He was wary, nobody should have known he was here. Then he saw the familiar symbol on the front. A lion, a bird, a badger, and a snake. The Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. He smiled as he read the letter. Familiar handwriting that he had not seen for a long time was short and to the point, as usual.  
  
Dear Friend,  
  
It has been a long while since you have graced our halls. I would like to extend the position as Professor for teaching the Defense Against of Dark Arts class at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. If you would like to accept the position, please owl me at your convenience.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore,  
  
Headmaster  
  
p.s. It's been a long time. It would be good to see you again, old friend  
  
"I've never been one to turn down a request from Albus Dumbledore. SO it looks like I got a job to do." He said aloud to himself.  
  
He put his cloak on the hanger, and his sword under his pillow. He smiled as he went to sleep, **I'll get to see James' son at last.** were his last thoughts.  
  
``  
  
Harry awoke at the sound of a few taps at his window. He looked up to see 4 owls, Hedwig, Errol, Pig, and another he did not recognize. All of them had only letters, except for Errol. He had not seen Hedwig for weeks, his Uncle banishing her from his house, so he had assumed that she had went to Ron's.  
  
He opened Hedwig's, and it had a letter from Hagrid.  
  
Deer Harry, I hope ye don mind me spelling, but Hedwig's bin stayin with me this summer. Supposedly, she went over to Ron's but Mrs. Weasley sent her to me because she thought I were lonely, God bless her. I thought I'd just let you know, in case yer worried. Mrs. Weasley told me not ter send yer yer gift, on account of yer relatives. I'll give it to ye when yer gets to Hogwarts. Until then,  
  
Rubius Hagrid  
  
He stroked Hedwig's feathers, "Good to see you girl." She nipped his finger affectionately.  
  
Pig was making noise, so he quickly opened up the letters and sent the impatient owl on his way.  
  
It was a letter from Ron,  
  
Dear Harry, we figured that since Hedwig came here, your relatives are being awful. That's bloody bad luck, mate, but we've still all got your presents. When Hermione gets you to the Burrow, we can all open them. I'll see you tomorrow.  
  
Ron  
  
Errol had a bunch of letters. One from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, another from Ginny, and one more from Fred and George.  
  
They all said pretty much the same thing as Ron, but Fred and George's contained a letter stating that should they ever get Weasley's Wizarding Wheezers up and running, he would be a full partner. Ginny's sounded more worried than the others, probably meaning she had not gotten over her crush on Harry. Harry smiled as he pictured her and her quill frantically scribbling down her letter, worried sick. Mrs. Weasley also had sent him a cake. It was chocolate, with minty green icing. He immediately gave himself a slice and opened the other owl's letter.  
  
It was from Hermione,  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I'm SO sorry that I can't pick you up sooner! I'll be there around noon, the day after your birthday. It'll be so good to see you again. I've got your gift, so don't worry. It's been an interesting summer, so I'll have lots of stuff to tell you about. Get your stuff ready, from what I hear, your relatives aren't being very nice, are they? I'll see you tomorrow.  
  
Love, Hermione  
  
Harry sent the owls home after Errol had a chance to rest. He told Hedwig to go to Ron's, and wrote a small note to the Weasleys. As they flew off, he thought he heard a noise in his Uncle's room. He quickly finished his slice of cake, and hid the rest under the floor like he usually did. He reattached the tape on his mouth and went back to bed, for hopefully a dreamless sleep.  
  
``  
  
Thanks all for reading. Hope you enjoyed. I hope I didn't butcher the Weasleys' name. I've got a general idea of where this story is gonna go now, so stay tuned. R/r please? Reviews make me so happy! 


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